


oh well whatever nevermind

by ODed_on_jingle_jangle



Category: Dare Me (TV 2019), Dare Me - Megan Abbott
Genre: Angst, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Not Happy, Rough Oral Sex, Statutory Rape
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-27
Updated: 2020-07-27
Packaged: 2021-03-05 23:46:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25553782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ODed_on_jingle_jangle/pseuds/ODed_on_jingle_jangle
Summary: Maybe he remembers the way the sarge’s camo felt around his shoulders, or laughing with him a little bit too drunk to set that glowing, positive example his parents always wanted him to set for his younger siblings, the kind of example Sarge swears the marines will mold him into if he signs up.
Relationships: Will "Sarge" Mosley/Michael Slocum
Comments: 5
Kudos: 12





	oh well whatever nevermind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [JustSomeone13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeone13/gifts).



“I mean, we were kind of friends, you know?” 

is how Micheal will describe it at Faith Hanlon’s kitchen table when everything is said and done, poking at spaghetti as if he might be interested in eating, staring at the marinara sauce and pretending he doesn't imagine blood. 

Maybe he remembers the way the sarge’s camo felt around his shoulders, or laughing with him a little bit too drunk to set that glowing, positive example his parents always wanted him to set for his younger siblings, the kind of example Sarge swears the marines will mold him into if he signs up. Laughing just enough that giddy tears prick the corner of his eyes, maybe, and he’s got a strong, warm arm around his shoulders and they’re both pretty sloppy so it’s okay if he leans in closer than normal and fans his fingers over that broad chest to feel the laughter burbling up from the inside. 

_“All the girls at school are crushing on you, you know?”_

is what he said once as he aimlessly tossed a football between his hands instead of throwing it across the lot, glancing between it and Sarge and trying not to let anything show. 

_“Some of the guys too...”_

is what he added just an octave lower, and Sarge had snorted at that, playful smirk on his lips. Ran his hand back through that shiny, wavy hair of his, ruffling it all up. Maybe Micheal bit his lip, twirled the football in lieu of wondering if he could ever thread his fingers through it or nuzzle his nose against his temple.

_“I’m not gay,”_

is what Sarge had slurred earlier this week, days before he'd blown his brains out, both of their eyes blearier than normal, knuckles bruised for reasons Micheal couldn’t get out of him, Micheal’s mouth still searing with the taste of lips he’d finally been drunk enough and bold enough to steal in a lightning quick kiss. 

_“But if you’re curious and you need to figure stuff out, I guess you can…I could let you…well, we’re friends, you know?”_

is what Sarge added after a moment, bobbing his head as he gently clapped his hands to Micheal’s cheeks. 

The way he said it was as if he was going to let Micheal have something special, like he was giving him a gift, genial and generous. And maybe that’s how it’d felt at first too, but by the time his knees were on the cement and there were hands knotted in his hair and that cock was crammed so far down his throat he was practically suffocating on it, nose achingly crushed against pelvic bone—

It mostly felt like something was being taken instead. 

But that’s not something that needs to be discussed at Faith Hanlon’s dinner table. That’s not something that needs to be discussed ever at all, he doesn’t think. It’s like the tree falling in the forest, isn't it? 

No one was around to hear it so maybe nothing really happened. The scrapes on his knees are nearly healed and Will is dead now. 

What does it matter, anyway.


End file.
